Understanding Cosima Niehaus
by alvbco
Summary: Darwin's theory manages to provide an explanation for a myriad of the strange happenings in our universe, but even Darwin himself would be confounded by the wonder that is you/ A teenage Cophine fic.
1. I am what I am, a natural disaster

The day Delphine Cormier arrived at Alexander Manchester High School on the East side of San Francisco was a Tuesday. Her entrance was largely unnoticed due to the majority of the school's inhabitants having already made it to class, noted only by Paulie Traden, a freckle-faced boy who wasn't on great terms with puberty and served as leader of the school's IT committee. He'd been walking to class after oversleeping from marathonning Star Trek all night and described his experience with her to have contained "unhindered desire. It was like I was Frodo Baggins and she was the ring and she was using her mystical powers to call me to her. I think it was her hair, it glowed like one of those L'Oreal commercials my sister likes. I had to stop myself from stroking it right there on the spot." Nevertheless, he didn't talk to her aside from the utterance of a stammered hello before he blushed and ducked into the bathroom. Her eyebrows furrowed into a look of confusion and she glanced down at her timetable, narrowing her eyes at the sea of numbers and words. As a military brat, she'd been shipped from school to school in her twelve years of education. She'd lived everywhere, from a small town in Australia that prided itself on its exceptional meat pies to a cabin that balanced precariously on the edge of one of the Rügen Cliffs in Germany. So when it came to the toils of navigating a new school, she knew the drill. Her usual plan was to find a lowerclassman that was nice enough to show her the ropes of the campus before locating a comfy chair in the library to make her lunch spot, preferably close to the biology section. If that wasn't an option, she was also impartial to the photography aisle, as well as the cooking wing, enjoying the pursuit of particularly quirky recipes for trial in her spare time (according to her parents, she was an imaginative cook at best, although to be fair, her French chocolate brownies were to be commended). She didn't ask for much, wishing only to get through high school with the best grades possible and the "Delphine is a puppy" jokes to be kept to a minimum.

The first err in her plan, however, came into play when she failed to accommodate for the presence of Cosima Niehaus in her life. Not that our poor Delphine could be blamed, of course, because she wasn't to know that such as girl would grow to consume her time. Cosima Niehaus was a paradox, you see, she was the kind of girl whose eyes were magnetic and tenacious and whose charm could make a stone gargoyle blush. Delphine first happened upon this wonder as she entered the school's office (only taking 3.68 minutes to locate it, a new record for her) and pulled her nose out of her personal planner long enough to catch the back of Cosima as she talked to what appeared to be the headmaster. She was all hand motions and stray dreads and, as phrases of their conversation floated towards the newcomer, Delphine was spellbound. She averted her eyes so as not to look conspicuous (thankfully nobody was paying attention to her, because she was staring at a blank page and it was less than believable) and listened to Cosima reason with the tired man.

"Okay, I know I'm in trouble sir, but I mean, calling my parents, really? That's so not cool, man. Can't we just discuss this like adults?"

He sighed and looked down at her, a 110-pound Junior who only reached his chin but was still managing to address him as if she were his co-worker. Delphine bit her lip to keep a chuckle from escaping as he rolled his eyes and the girl kept going. "Okay, you're a businessman, right? Let's think about this on a big picture kinda level. Sure, I missed out on my homework for a couple of measly weeks, but those three non-existent essays would have taken up the space in paper of what, maybe eight hundred and forty square inches? Now, to put that into perspective, the earth is 12478143744000 square inches, meaning that the space of those essays is one 14828453647th of the earth, which seems pretty meagre, right? To take it even further, the earth is an infinitesimally small percentage of our milky way, which is one of roughly 500 billion according to the Hubble telescope. When we think about it in the scale of things, you've got to agree that those essays are pretty insignificant when it all comes down to it. I mean, sir, no disrespect, but can we please chill with the whole third degree thing?"

He was about to respond but was cut off as he noticed (somewhat belatedly) Delphine's arrival and rushed over to introduce himself, leaving Cosima to escape undetected as she shot a wink in the stranger's direction and ducked out the door with a smirk. Delphine's eyes widened as some of the brunette's perfume wafted past, a delightful mix of something sweet that she couldn't quite identify and a sandalwood green tea shampoo that made her head spin in the best kind of way. When she cleared her head enough to direct her attention back to the man in front of her, she was whisked away on a tour of the school and didn't have time to think amongst the flurry of room numbers and bits of trivia that were being fed into her brain.


	2. Colours fading, frayed at the sight

Fifth period AP Chemistry that Friday was nothing particularly special. Two kids in the back were trading vaguely inappropriate notes (I'm not going to say it was sexting, but I think they took the whole idea of "chemistry" slightly too literally) and the rest of the class were huddled around their respective test tubes, undertaking the day's assigned magnesium and hydrochloric acid lab.

Delphine, on the other hand, was sitting by herself at one of the stations near the back, her earphones feeding a breezy melody into her head as she looked out the window at the trees drifting about daintily as if they mere dandelions instead of 100-year-old oaks. By then, the teacher had gotten used to her "accelerated learning progress" and didn't comment when she finished early, leaving her to her own devices as her fingers drummed a soft rhythm against the stained wood of the desk and she hummed along to the tune.

She spent most of the lesson in this fashion, losing herself in the folkier section of one of the playlists she made last summer, only interrupted when a piece of paper appeared on the desk in front of her. Before she had any time to do anything rather than utter a startled yelp, a boy she recognised from around the halls as Tony something-beginning-with-S materialised beside her. He offered his hand.

"Yo." He greeted her, his expression a wry smirk with the kind of cocky air about it that wasn't quite at the point of being offputting.

"Hi," she responded, taking out an earphone and reaching out cautiously to shake his hand. "I'm Delphine-"  
>"-Cormier, I know." He interjected. "Did you really think somebody with hair like yours could manage to slip into this school unnoticed? There's been rumours circulating that you're secretly a postergirl for a high-end shampoo brand since the lunch hour on your first day and the Harry Potter dorks in freshman year want to use you as proof that 'veelas really do walk among us'." He did air quotes for the last few words and rolled his eyes. "My personal theory is that you're half golden retriever. I mean, I don't know how the technicalities work biologically and all, but it makes sense considering that you seem to have such an affinity for labs." He paused to snigger at his joke and Delphine opened her mouth to attempt a response. Before she could manage anything, he spoke again. "But anyway, I'm not here to get mad at you for overthrowing my chances at winning 'Most Likely to be the Muse for the Next Adaptation of the Popular Musical, <em>Hair<em>'. No, not at all. I'm here to cordially invite you to our gig tonight." He gestured down at the page in front of her. "It's perfect weather for it, don't you think? Almost _gig_glingly good weather," he added, chuckling. "See what I did there? I mean okay, it was a little weak, but anything beats this lame ass chemistry period."

Delphine tried to hide her frown at this; her afternoon periods of chem and bio were her favourite parts of the day.

"You look like a sad little doggy that just got kicked. What did I say?" Tony asked, bopping her nose with his finger. Delphine admired that fact that he was a totally cocky asshat of a boy, yet still managed to seem likeable overall. It was almost an artform. "Anyway, can you come to the gig?"

"Gig?" Delphine repeated confusedly.

He raised his eyebrows. "You're kidding right? You're a senior and you've never been to a gig? Do you, like, live in a dark attic or something and completely hate yourself?"

"Uh…. No?" she replied defensively, tacking on the reminder of "I'm French" for explanation. One handy tip for survival she'd picked up was pretending she wasn't in on pop culture because she was exotic and aloof instead of the alternative, which was that she'd never been one with too many friends. Well, that's not entirely true. There was that guy in Belgium who was training for the Olympic freestyle team, but he wasn't exactly the normal type of friend if you catch my drift.

Tony S-something sighed. "Look, just come along, you'll see. You, my friend, are in for a world of new experiences. Going to a gig is sort of like a religious experience that you didn't know you needed to have until you're there and you're soaking it up and you feel like you might die because everything in the world seems possible in that one moment and it's like you're flying."

She nodded slowly, assuming that his experience of whatever a gig was wasn't exactly the most sober of ventures. "Alright, then."

"Great! Okay, I'll catch you there. Goodbye, clueless French girl with questionably perfect hair." Tony was gone before she could even fully comprehend what she'd gotten herself into, strolling off down to the front of the classroom to fire the pencil previously sitting behind his ear at the teacher's back. Tony paused to shoot Delphine a grin that was equal parts charming and wolfish and disappeared out the door as she wondered how exactly he managed not to fail despite walking in and out of important classes as he pleased. It was a mystery.

"Au revoir, Tony whose last name I still can't manage." Delphine called back, catching only the last whispers of his footsteps as he left, and that was that. When he was well and truly gone, she looked down at flyer she'd been given, wondering who exactly the "Pot-Ass-Iums" were that dominated most of the text and promised a "killer" feature. Delphine was in the middle of deciphering the address through the sea of typos when another thought occurred to her.

"I still don't know what a gig is." She said to no one in particular.


	3. Burnt beneath the rising sun

**A/N: Hey, guys! Thanks to all of you for reading, I like each and every one of you more than everyone and their mum agrees that Larry Bloom is about as necessary as the "Connect to Facebook" option on Tumblr . Serious stuff, I know- you're the bee's knees. Anyway, I especially wanted to thank everyone who left a review- hearing your thoughts is the bomb diggity and reviews/follows/favourites are seriously appreciated. I hope y'all have a nice day and enjoy the next chapter! **

If you were to ask Delphine today about what occurred later that day, she wouldn't be able to tell you much. Well, that's not entirely true. She would, for one, still be able to recount with absolute clarity the exact shade of Cosima's lipstick, having certainly uh…. _familiarised_ herself with it during the course of the evening. She'd also be able to recall the skirt Cosima had worn for the occasion, right down to the type of material and the point at which it stopped on Cosima's thighs, a length that- while not altogether too revealing- certainly would've raised her father's blood pressure a few notches had Delphine been the one wearing it.

And most of all, she'd tell you, it had been the smell- the inebriating scent of Cosima Niehaus that she wanted to swim in forever. It was one she would soon grow accustomed to, able to recognise Cosima without sight or touch but purely the flurry her scent induced in Delphine's stomach and the accompanying pleasant thud of her heartbeat. You know, the one little cardiac nuance I'm sure everyone has experienced at one point or another- the quick double beat, as if her heart ceased for the moment to be simply a muscle but instead took on the role of a hostess, greeting Cosima like an old friend to say, "No, please- come inside! Don't worry; we've plenty of room. Make yourself at home!"

But I'm getting ahead of myself. That's not what I'm talking about- or at least not yet. We'll get to that all soon enough; don't worry. For now, however, I'm going to focus more on the events that took place _before_ Delphine happened across Cosima Niehaus that night.

Or rather,

as I like to remember it,

a compilation

of startling

and distinct

patterns.

The first was a sunny daisy print, one embroidered onto Delphine's favourite socks and peaking out from her trusty combat boots, donned to match the bright yellow of the button-up she had on beneath her overall dress. Such an ensemble was her armour for her brief soirée into the world of the almighty "gig" and the socks were tugged at several times as Delphine stood outside the bar, regarding it curiously as if it were a specimen under her microscope and she was trying to identify how it would be classified. She studied its intricacies; taking in all the details of the building one might miss- the initials carved into the bottom of the wall and the stream of people filtering past her through the doors that was composed of so many different types of people, all of them somehow seeming to hum the same kind of way. Most of all, she marvelled at the accidental beauty of the moment. Here she was, just another person standing on a San Francisco street on a fall evening in completely ordinary circumstances really. She was but a dot in a crowd, yet everything she saw was lit up with the electric exhilaration that bounced through the air around her, flourishing her vision with specs of golden light. It was wonderful.

She shared a conspiratorial grin with herself (the kind often exchanged between those aware of the great adventure they're embarking on) and walked through the door, bringing me to the next pattern- that of the drums.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The bass line seemed to leak out from every available surface (the walls, the floor, the ceiling), filling the otherwise grimy bar with a euphoric glow created only by the likes of a good song. It rippled out, undulating and swirling, and wrapped itself around each member of the audience, flirting with them, coercing them, beckoning for them to come just a little bit closer, to feel the beat just that little bit more. It was a seductress, one that took no time in reaching into Delphine's chest, gently gliding its way past her ribcage to carefully retime her heartbeat so that it correlated exactly with the drums with the kind of unabashed demeanour that Delphine couldn't help but admire. She imagined it tapping on her shoulder and winking at her impishly like some sort of musical sprite, willing her to follow it deeper into its midst.

So she did.

She followed it right into the depths of the final pattern I'm touching on:

The movement of the crowd.

Once in their midst, the energy of the crowd swept Delphine away like a powerful ocean current, relentless and overwhelming in its nature (but not at all unpleasant either). Suddenly, she was no longer Delphine Cormier and all thoughts of "I" were lost to the notion of "we". _We _dance, _we _sing, _we _lose ourselves to the beat. She was one with the rest of them, all unified by the identifiable aura that pulsed out from the stage as they vanished one by one into the haze of dreamy synths and sparky snare hits.

The vigour of the area was so tangible that Delphine swore it'd be visible on film and she whipped out her camera to take a shot, turning around to grab one of the stage to find that there happened to be a Cosima Niehaus gaze burning through her viewfinder. Delphine's hands fell lamely to her sides in a fashion that made her extremely glad she was the kind of dork who wore the wrist strap as she watched the brunette smile out at the crowd. Cosima tapped her foot in tandem to the music and lifted the microphone to her lips:

_Happy, spinning, clapping, laughing, dancing_

_In the blackness of magic._

_Get it, have it, bag it, throw yourself on the aeroplane_

_And fly like magic._

At that moment, Delphine wasn't close enough to be entirely sure but she would've sworn that she saw a distinct hint of nebula-related activity in Cosima's eyes.

They had an other-wordly quality that caused the poor French girl to seriously question who had come up with this phenomenon, the one who was able to send a shooting star right through from the top of her head (perfectly styled, in case you were wondering- what else?) to the tips of her toes as they wiggled in her daisy socks and good ol' combat boots. The enticement in Cosima's movements had the kind of vibe that had the crowd at a loss for whether to bow down on the floor for her or dance their hearts out but, before Delphine could figure out which was appropriate, there was A Wink.

From Cosima Niehaus.

To Delphine Cormier.

And most importantly- here's the kicker:

It was in the midst of the lyrics, "You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now."

Not to mention, Delphine had heard offhandedly around the halls that Cosima was "totally into girls, in case you're wondering."

Not that this was at all relevant.

That's just something that happened to pop into Delphine's flabberghasted brain at that precise moment for reasons incomprehensible.

**A/N 2: For those of you at all curious, the song the Pot-Ass-Iums were covering is ****_You & I_**** by the butt-kicking Crystal Fighters. Thanks for reading!**


	4. With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

**A/N: Yoyoyo readers, I hope you've been well! I know that my updates are few and far between, but I do still really appreciate your support, whether it's reviews/reblogs/favourites etc., and would like to send an internet flower/high five to each and every one of you. Also, I have a rather exciting announcement: you can now listen to the Pot-Ass-Iums setlist on my 8tracks or Tumblr (available on my profile), so if you're a wee bit curious as to the jams that Cosima and her comrades will crack out, head on over! It'll be updated with each chapter, so you should definitely stay tuned (mind the pun) for some other cool stuff coming soon. Now for the awkward teenage interactions, I'll let you get to the story. Peace out.**  
>After the dreaded Wink and subsequent Thoughts We're Going To Deny Ever Entered Her Head, poor Delphine spent the rest of the set trying to control her facial muscles. She had little to no success considering that her expression frequently rendered those around her to exchange murmurs about whether or not she was experiencing cardiac arrest. To be fair, she was on the verge of it- you see, Cosima was wearing a crop top that exposed teeny snippets of the best ribcage known to man whenever she lifted her arms (which was a lot) and Delphine was not blind. In fact, she'd like it to be known that she handled it all "pretty well, thank you very much" and "probably as well as anyone could've in the circumstances provided" (cue defensive arms crossing and angry puppy eye narrowing).<br>When the agonising gig finally rolled to an end with the last few notes of Devendra Banhardt's _Lover_ exploding into the air (sung once again by Cosima with, once again, several Suggestive Looks to the eastern corner of the bar- the very one that Delphine was standing in the back of), Delphine made a beeline for the door, intent on kicking back with a rerun of season five of Grey's and some cappuccino-flavoured gelato, where she could be safe from the offensive allure of _certain people _(the really terrible ones who had dreadlocks and like to mix it up on the synth pad).

Before she get make it out alive, however, she was roped into a very long-winded discussion with an ape of a boy by the name of Domno (or was it Domo? Donnie? She couldn't be sure, he liked to slur his words) about the logistics of the storyline of _Grease_ and its probability of occurring in real life. He had a huge conspiracy theory that the whole story was a construct created to keep people from being aware of the existence of extra terrestrial life forms inhabiting Alaska because "there's no way that a bunch of teens would ever, like, just randomly burst into song. Like, who does that?"  
>Delphine graciously ignored the urge to look up the phrase "musical" for him on Google and instead did a very good job of appearing to be listening. That is, until a teeny tiny body stumbled into her, their attention having been focused in the opposite direction as they sped through the bar. Her successive "oof" was lost to a pair of lips that enveloped her own, morphing instead to a surprised "mhm!" as two hands reached up to cup her face and a tongue brushed against hers. The offender was relatively gentle at first but, as the seconds went by, they seemed to be fuelled by some unknown force, acting as if perhaps they thought they could find the answer to what was responsible for triggering the Fenton reaction somewhere in Delphine's gums.<br>After a few more "mhm!" moments and one "oh!" for good measure, the mysterious lips were gone. Delphine's eyes flashed open and were surprised (but also a little bit "of course, of freaking course") to register Cosima Niehaus standing before her with a lazy grin, popping a piece of bubble gum at the same moment that Delphine realised her mouth was now robbed of the grape Hubba Bubba she'd had a few moments before.  
>"Woooooow." Cosima's eyebrows shot up. "I was about to apologise for that but dude, you made that hard to be sorry for."<br>Delphine frowned. There was still a significant amount of teenage hormone imbalance blurring her vision so naturally her brain capacity wasn't at its peak. "Thanks?"  
>The brunette winked. "I think you're the one I should be thanking." She leaned toward Delphine with a grin, her small frame jumping when something behind the blonde caught her eye. "Shit!" she murmured, sobering considerably. "I- um- I'm sorry about that. Normally I like to y'know, introduce myself before I make out with such a pretty girl but that was an emergency. I hope you don't mind."<br>Delphine nodded slowly, still relatively dazed by the flurry of oxytocin flirting with her synapses.  
>"Sorry to play the whole 'mysterious stranger' card, but I actually've gotta bounce now before I get into further mischief. But if you wanna come with, I can totally explain it all." Cosima gazed at Delphine curiously, her head tilted to the side a little as her eyes raked over the blonde's figure and her smile widened. Sticking out her hand, she winked and Delphine felt her heart do that fluttery thing she'd heard can cause crimes of passion if left to its own devices.<br>"Well, I mean, Orange is the New Black is on hiatus right now, so it's the least I can do, I guess." Delphine agreed as she chuckled nervously and her fingers slipped through Cosima's, each cell seeming to let out a sigh of relief at the contact.  
>The brunette giggled, "That's the spirit!" and then they ran together, all the way past the bar to some dingy backroom that reeked of bodily fluids and through a metal door until they'd broken out into the clear night and were panting for breath outside, their hands still entangled as they attempted to regain their cool. When Cosima looked down at their entwined digits, she blushed slightly as if having forgotten and let their hands slip apart, clearing her throat and regaining her posture to walk over to the shadows near a beat up truck. The same wolfish boy who was the reason for Delphine's presence that night emerged with a couple of skateboards, throwing one to his counterpart before narrowing his eyes at Delphine. "Who do we have here?" he asked, more to Cosima than the girl he was still staring at intently, and the brunette waved her hand.<p>

"It's okay, Tony, she's cool. She actually just totally saved my ass in there- for the second time if I'm right-" she explained, shooting a grin at the blonde. "-not to mention, she's like a crazy good kisser."  
>Tony let out a whistle and rolled his eyes at Cosima's antics before looking back to Delphine, still standing there awkwardly. "Can you ride?"<br>"Uh, no. Sorry." Delphine admitted, biting her lip. Cosima touched her shoulder.  
>"Don't worry babe, you can use Fee's rollerskates. He looked a little preoccupied with that Colin boy back at the gig. I heard distinct uttering of cunnilingus if I'm not mistaken. Or maybe it's Colinilingus in that case."<br>They shared a giggle at the joke as she handed Delphine a pair of bright pink rollerskates that magically seemed just her size. The confused French girl laced up the boots and before long, the three of them were pelting down the sidewalk, approaching the lighthouse down by the end of the beach as the echoes of Tony and Cosima's peals of laughter and shrieks of delight thundered across the road.  
>When they reached the next wing of their journey and abandoned their wheels in a hiding spot Cosima had "totally been using for years", Delphine stopped a couple of steps behind them. She looked forward at the pair- Cosima, who was like a force of nature unable to be contained in such a small frame to the point where bits of personality were exploding out in vagrant dreads and rings and eyeliner like tall sunflowers in the middle of spring, and Tony, who had long curls that were tied up in a lose bun on the top of his head and a flannel on that trailed behind him in the wind as he ran along the coastline, his smile wide and his eyes bright- and she had no idea what she'd gotten herself into.<br>"Uh, guys?" she called. They stopped in their tracks and looked back at her curiously, their eyes both alive with the same glow of mirth fantastically seeming to lighten their irises but at least two shades. "What- What are we doing?"

"We're about to go meet up with the rest of our gang to stage an elaborate intercity murder mission we've been planning to the last detail for sixteen years." Tony deadpanned. Cosima laughed and reached out for Delphine's hand.  
>"He's kidding." She reassured her. "Don't worry, we're just gonna go get high and play a little guitar." She said it like it was no big deal. Perhaps in her world, it wasn't. "By the way, I love your socks!"<p> 


	5. When we were young

**A/N: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to XO by Beyoncé, which has been playing on repeat for the duration of its composition, and Amanda (tumblr user evelynebroshootme), who not only is a great proof-reader but also never fails to reblog my selfies. You da real MVP, girl. And alsooooo, to you guys- the readers! Thanks for everything, y'all. **

"'The curves of your lips rewrite history.' Who said that?"

The previously dormant classroom of Ms. Wetlzer's English class erupted in a smattering of raised hands as she surveyed the group. She cocked an eyebrow, gesturing with a lazy inclination of her hand to the front of the room.

"Oscar Wilde." Offered a girl Delphine vaguely recognised by the distinct symmetricality of her brunette fringe and similarly taut posture.

Before she could look too pleased with herself, a blonde two seats back chirped, "In his novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray." Well, "girl" was probably not the clearest of interpretations. You see, she had the air of an Incan goddess who perhaps had been side-tracked on her way to cloud bingo with all the other celestial beings and somehow had ended up in a 3rd period English class instead. By the way she sat, Delphine imagined that she would have been the kind of person to label her surroundings as "vexing" or maybe even "irksome" and it seemed that she was intent on making it clear that she was above Absolutely Everything around her. The first girl to speak turned to shoot her a forced smile, to which she responded with a slight nod, her sculpted eyebrows raising almost imperceptibly as her eyes glinted with the kind of amusement a lion would exhibit when toying with its prey.

"Very good." Thin lips spread into a grin over coffee-stained teeth as the teacher nodded her approval, scratching her chin with a diabolical challenge clear behind rimmed spectacles. "Okay. How about this one?" she closed her eyes and spoke in a reverent tone. "'It frightened him to think what must have gone to the making of her eyes-'"

Her quote, albeit soulfully recited, was interrupted with two hands rushing into the air at a speed one would assume could only be bad for the circulation of their owners.

"Edith-" A British voice began.

"Wharton. _The Age of Innocence._" The fringed-girl interjected in a strained pitch, smiling saccharinely. "In 1920," she added, clasping her hands in front of her on the desk.

"Yes. Thank you, er, Alison and Rachel. That was certainly an interesting display for the rest of the class, although you were both right, of course. Of _course_." Ms. Weltzer suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Anyway, what do these two quotes have in common? Anyone?"

There was a collective notion of inhabitants sinking further into seats to avoid detection as the group seemed at a loss. Even All-Knowing Alison (as Delphine heard whispered from somewhere behind her) could only manage a meek, "They're….both about faces?"

The teacher sighed and lifted her mug to take a drawn out sip in a classic "I don't get paid enough for this" maneuver, one that was exhibited by upwards of 97% of the teachers Delphine had been taught by. "Passion." Ms. Weltzer whispered. A few kids from the back looked confused and several mutterings of "What did she say?" collided in the air of the classroom. The woman took a deep breath and slammed a book on her desk. "Passion! These kinds of phrases are what I like to call lyrical juggernauts. They are segments of words that explode through the banality of mediocre text and light every single synapse of your mind on fire in the swift motion of a full stop. Call me pious, but I think that words like these words have enough poetry in them to devote a religion to. They're the epitome of literacy amalgamating with art. And they," she raised the chalk to the blackboard. "Are your homework. Make me feel something, guys."

The communal groan of the class was perfectly timed with the bell in an eccentric kind of symphony that can only exist in a public school and, as bags were dragged out of the room around her, Delphine copied down her homework.

_Due Tuesday, 3__rd__ Period:_

20-40 words that say more than 240,00 could.

"Extra points if you don't look for them in a _Twilight_ novel." The teacher muttered as she got to her feet.

* * *

><p>"The curves of your lips rewrite history." Delphine whispered later that day, sitting on the steps of the school as she waited to get picked up. "It frightened him to think what must have gone into the making of her eyes." She murmured. She had her English book open in her lap, drumming her pencil against the rings of the spine as she made and scribbled out her third attempt at the homework. She sighed, giving up and opting instead to pull her headphones out of her pocket, grinning as she pressed play and relaxed against the cool stone.<p>

After a few moments, a body plopped down next to her and gently took one of the headphones.

"Heya, kid. Whatcha listening to?" Cosima asked, popping it into her ear only to bite her lip, trying to contain a grin as Delphine realised that the song currently playing was _You and I_ by Crystal Fighters, part of the playlist she _definitely hadn't_ made last week of songs from the gig. Not at _all_.

Delphine gulped, a blush unraveling across her cheeks as she watched Cosima chuckle at her expression.

"Hey, this sounds familiar. Do I know it from somewhere?" the brunette asked in a faux-innocent tone, smirking.

Delphine shrugged, tugging a curl behind her ear. "I don't know, maybe." She crossed her arms, not enjoying how much Cosima was delighting in this moment.

Cosima bopped her head along to the chorus, her fingers tapping to the beat. "Mhm. I think a band I know might've played it recently or some junk." She looked at Delphine, her eyes glowing with mirth.

The blonde concentrated on the hem of her shirt. "That might be right." She picked at a loose thread, biting back a smile. "I heard that they weren't very good though. Apparently the main singer was kinda pitchy."

Cosima raised her eyebrows. "Maybe she was a little distracted by a pretty blonde in the back who kept staring at her."

"I was not staring!" Delphine paused the song to narrow her eyes at a giggling Cosima, who patted her knee.

"It's okay, it was totally cute. Speaking of, are you busy right now? I have a couple of packs of Sour Patch Kids in my car and the lighthouse is beckoning. I'm even willing to do a one woman revival of the Pot-Ass-Iums' mighty rendition of _You and I_ to lure you into my clutches."

Delphine rolled her eyes. "Fine." She let Cosima pull her to her feet and slung her bag across her body. "But only because I freakin' love Sour Patch Kids."

* * *

><p>"This is Franklin." Cosima tapped the hood of a dilapidated pickup, walking around to open the passenger seat for Delphine. "Franklin is my baby. He's four years' worth of science competitions, allowance and battle of the bands winnings wrapped up in a sturdy package of handsome badass."<p>

Delphine chuckled as she settled into the cracked leather seat. Franklin was certainly… something. Cosima caught her alarmed expression and grinned.

"I know what you're thinking, but he runs great. Well, maybe not great… He's okay. I mean, realistically, I could probably outride him on my skateboard BUT," she fished through her pocket for the keys and produced them with a wink. "I installed a killer sound system. When you hear it, you'll understand why I didn't splurge for a Honda. It's amazing." She passed an AUX cord to Delphine. "Do your worst."

Delphine raised her eyebrows and pulled out her phone in acceptance of the challenge, tapping in her password to open up iTunes. Cosima popped a lollipop into her mouth, reaching down to pump the clutch. The engine started with a choked whine and faltered to a stop, shuddering greasy rumbles of detest. Unphased, Cosima stroked the dashboard affectionately, muttering a "Come on buddy, next pay isn't until Friday. Work with me here, dude."

As she turned the key for the third time, Cosima asked, "So, what's your favourite song when you get sick of Crystal Fighters?" She stomped on the pedal with as much strength as she could gather from within her tiny frame, fist pumping when the engine finally caught and she could back the car out of its spot. They joined the queue to turn out of the lot and she looked at Delphine out of the corner of her eye, curious.

The blonde held up a finger as she scrolled through her library, smiling at Cosima when she finally found the song and heard the first few notes flourish in the speaker.

Cosima looked impressed. "Electric Guest. Niiiiiiice."

"_Waves_ is my happy song. It's impossible for me to listen to this and not smile."

Cosima's eyes were wide as she nodded. "I completely understand." When the chorus hit, she shook her shoulders along with the peppy beat, doing toe taps in time with the music and cheesy waggles with the hand that wasn't cradling the steering wheel. Watching the sight, Delphine couldn't help but chuckle – that is, until a horn blared behind them, startling Delphine out of her high mid-giggle. It appeared that, although enthusiastic, Cosima's dance moves were apparently not too beneficial to her automotive control.

"Whoops." Cosima let out what could only be described as a cackle, pressing her foot down on the gas to cut in front of the original horn-hitter (his wheel-welting ranks were increasing speedily), who was now hurling an impressive array of expletives at the truck's bumper. She poked her tongue out the window at him and sped away, continuing to bop alone to the music all the while. Soon, they were alone on a stretch of highway and Delphine saw the sign for their destination signalling that they were 10 miles out. She watched the trees blur together as _Waves _faded out and then the car lurched a couple of times while Cosima acted on her "Oh you're going to love this song!" epiphany. The girl opened her phone to put on another song, trading the cord from Delphine's into her own jack and only slipping out of the lines twice in the process, which, she'll have you know, is a record for her and "like, totally the standard of a regular driver".

Grinning, she leaned over and fiddled with the volume until it was on full blast.

Delphine gasped. "The Mynabirds! I love this song."

"What?" Cosima shouted.

"I love The Mynabirds!" Delphine yelled back. "You have good taste!"

"I look like toothpaste?"

"No, you- Nevermind."

"Rewind? I thought you knew this song!"

Delphine sighed, opting to instead lean back and enjoy the song over the various tyre squeals/gear crunches that spewed out whenever Cosima air pumped too wildly.

* * *

><p>"Hmm… Oh, I've got it- favorite color! Go." Cosima challenged, continuing the flow of questions shot between the two as per the pattern of the last hour. Delphine thought about it for a moment. She bit her lip, propping herself up with one arm to look around for inspiration. Upon doing a quick inventory of her surroundings, a wave crash caught Delphine's eye and, although it was particularly spectacular, she wasn't sure about the idea of labelling herself as a blue fan. Was that who she really was? She sighed. The waves were pretty, sure, but blue seemed like such an obvious answer. All one had to do was look up on a regular day and bam, blue. There was next to no originality in blue.<p>

Okay, scratching the blue. Delphine tried again with little success. San Francisco was uncharacteristically hazy that day, to the point where the air particles seemed to have actually physically increased in size. They grew and grew, clumping together to create a grey blanket of heavy air that swam just above them and wrapped up Delphine and Cosima, who were laying side by side on a blanket from the trunk.

Delphine gave up when she noted that she could barely make out the trees that clumped together a few yards down and concluded that, although this weather was exhilarating in a kind of unexplainable way, it didn't provide much in terms of palette inspiration.

"That's an unfair question. I don't think my answer would be able to do the vast array of-" Delphine began, turning to make eye contact with Cosima only to be caught off guard by two orbs of the warmest brown she'd seen before, including the time when she _finally_ aced her favorite brownie recipe and pulled it out of the oven at the perfect moment.

In that moment, it seemed ridiculous that she'd ever even thought about her favorite color at all. The answer was startlingly clear and it was lying beside her with a curious expression in the form of Cosima Niehaus.

Brown.

Big, heavily lined brown eyes

(that melted every fuse in her brain when she looked into them),

brunette dreadlocks

(almost becoming a lion's mane whenever she took to the stage or drove with the windows cracked down)

and

tanned expanses of toned stomach and soft skin

(which were deceivingly smooth considering that Delphine felt like someone had installed magnets just under the epidermis layer- she was sure, because whenever she was within a yard of the girl, she felt the familiar pull from somewhere within her fingertips and had to stop herself from grazing Cosima's lips whenever she accidentally looked at them for too long).

_Brown._

Delphine swallowed, suddenly very aware of the way her tongue felt in her mouth (still unfortunately in her mouth and not in, say, Cosima's mouth) and the fact that the air, which had been burying her moments before, now seemed to have shifted its sense of gravity entirely. Suddenly, it wasn't a push towards the ground she was feeling- no; it felt like the air itself was willing her closer to the girl beside her.

"Hm?" Cosima looked up at her, cradling a freshly lit joint with gentle fingers as she exhaled luxuriously, the smoke from her mouth bellowing out into the fog before them. She twirled it between her fingers and watched it go, each wisp disappearing in seconds. She turned back to Delphine, who still hadn't regathered her wits. "Sorry, what was that? I missed your answer."

"What was what?" Delphine was breathless, her eyes still locked on the specks of gold in Cosima's.

"You mumbled something. I didn't quite catch it, sorry. Did you say brown?"

"Merde!" Delphine mouthed. She hadn't realized she'd said it out loud. She shook her head and lay back down beside Cosima, quiet for a moment as she scrambled to remember what had been going through her head (all her mental state seemed in the mood to comprehend was that Cosima had a freckle shaped like a love heart on her neck, just below her ear, and it looked _really _soft). "Sorry, ah, what I meant to say was that I don't think I, or any other human, can do that question justice. I mean there are breeds of mantis shrimp existing thousands of feet below us who, at any given time, are witnessing a multitude of spectrums _completely invisible_ to our eyes. I don't know," she ran her fingers through her hair. "I feel like I'd be doing the astronomical beauty of the natural world a disservice by providing an answer."

Cosima grinned. "So, I guess I'll call you when they invent 24 photoreceptor goggles for kickass totally crazy scientists, huh?"

Delphine relaxed her shoulders, closing her eyes as she felt Cosima's foot brush against her leg. "That would be so cool!" she let out a light laugh. "What about yours?" She looked over at Cosima, who was smiling eagerly, the kind of mid inhale smile that had tendrils escaping from between her teeth in cusps. She looked like both a regal dragon and a teeny cocker spaniel all at the same time, and Delphine was at a loss for how she managed such a feat. Her next phrase certainly didn't help with the whole "Delphine may not've been the only puppy between the pair of them" theory.

"Hot pink!" She exclaimed, her eyes glinting. Delphine raised her eyebrows. "What? I like that nobody would assume that of me. I like to keep people guessing, y'know? And I mean, since my glasses are only a basic tri-color lens, pink's pretty good for me."

Delphine tapped her nose. "You're full of surprises, missy."

* * *

><p>"Hey, have you ever smoked weed before?"<p>

An hour had passed and Delphine looked up from her English book (her homework now at a golden total of seven tries scratched out) to see Cosima puffing out a hit of her second joint. The blonde watched the way the smoke clung to the edge of the girl's mouth, commiserating with the tendrils because she knew that it would really suck to have to let go of those beautiful lips. She traced her fingers over the letters that made up "the curves of your lips rewrite history" in her book and shook her head.

"Never really had the chance, only a couple of cigarettes." She admitted.

"You want some of mine?" Cosima asked, adding a quick, "Not that there's any pressure or anything- it's totally chill. Just, like, if you're curious."

Delphine shrugged. "Why not?" she said, totally for the scientific experience that would be trying this out and not at all for the excited grin it elicited from Cosima. The brunette passed her the blunt and she held it to her lips, taking a breath. She looked down at her converses as it fizzed through her throat, extracting a cough from the depths of her lungs. She turned back to see Cosima staring at her and felt self-consciousness tinge her cheeks. "What?"

"It's uh-" Cosima chuckled. "You've got to do it like this."

She reached over to take the joint and gently held it up to Delphine's mouth.

Delphine's breath froze in her lungs and she looked at Cosima, who tilted her head a little, encouraging her to take a drag. She paused to appreciate the way that Cosima's lips were slightly parted in anticipation in a loose grin, her dreadlocks bobbing around as she moved closer.

Delphine slowly nudged forward, trying to will her lungs to work with her enough to allow her to take a deep breath. After a little bit of bargaining, she caught the joint in her mouth and took a long drag, allowing the smoke to dance down her throat and blossom about in her lungs, a hazy midst flurrying about her synapses to slowly tinge her vision with an aura that felt like the smack of one's lips on a hot day when presented with a refreshing drink. She couldn't explain the sensation, but she did know that it did nothing to help her predicament, for you see Cosima was still Right There in front of her and Delphine had accidentally brushed her lip against Cosima's pinkie when she finished her hit. She froze, her eyes wide.

"See what I mean?" Cosima asked, oblivious. Delphine gulped, looking down at the long, nimble fingers hovering near her lips. She wondered if perhaps she could will them to reach out and graze her skin again if she thought about it hard enough. So far, it showed no signs of working. Damn.

Delphine nodded. "Mhm." Her eyes moved up to lock on Cosima's as the younger girl stared at her for a few moments. Her hands hadn't moved and were still within an inch of her face, which Delphine wouldn't have minded, but it was of course awfully distracting- how was she supposed to think about anything other than the fact that her own skin seemed to be leaning towards Cosima? It scared her that her body could respond to a stimulus in such a primal way; she'd read about the occurrence but assumed it to be the stuff of romance novels and other works of fiction. That was, until then, when she was sitting opposite Cosima Niehaus and her palms were humming with the desire to reach forward and take Cosima's face in her hands. Her body seemed to be someone else's entirely- because surely her own rational body would never betray her like this. But alas, her mutinous heart was hammering loudly enough that she was sure Cosima could hear if (if not feel it rippling through the gap of air that sat between them) and her stupid tongue was running over the length of her lips, imagining what Cosima's would feel like against them as if it had a mind of its own.

After a few moments, the younger girl took a sharp breath, seeming to come to her senses as she lowered her hands.

"Sorry," she bit her lip. "I don't know what that was. Must've been the weed or something." she explained.

Delphine smiled tentatively as Cosima handed her the joint and pulled out some skins to roll another for herself. "I didn't mind." She whispered. She assumed Cosima didn't hear, but the grin that her lips twisted into as she smoothed out the paper indicated otherwise. Cosima looked at her with quirked eyebrows as she lifted it to her mouth and slid her tongue across the edge.

After that, the heavy air was full of silence for a while, and that was okay. There was a newfound companionship blooming between them and it was flourishing in the quiet.

Cosima finished prepping her joint and lit it. They smoked side by side for a while, each of them gazing out at the horizon. They were content experiencing life under an indecisive storm cloud together in silence.

Somewhere along the way, Cosima's fingers landed on Delphine's palm and began to trace spirals into the soft of her skin. They didn't make eye contact; both lost in the way the demise of a day could turn a bunch of clouds into a mosaic.

It was their moment and it was perfect in its timid beauty. It didn't really need words.

But my, Delphine would've loved an explanation.

* * *

><p><em>Delphine's English homework (as scribbled on the back of a Sour Patch Kids box in Cosima's passenger seat, one that had been rechristened with several polaroids from the afternoon):<em>

"The exact pigment of what glows in her eyes is enough to make me question whether I'm really French after all, or if perhaps there's a hint of shrimp in my ancestry."


End file.
